Three Square Meals Ch. 096

Nyrelle pulled him into a hug and murmured, "Oh John, I'm so sorry..."

He gave her a sad, self-conscious smile. "I've never told anyone that before. I'm sorry it wasn't something more uplifting."

"No, I'm really glad you told me," she said softly, running her fingers through his hair. She gazed into his eyes, a forlorn expression on her beautiful face.

"What's wrong?" he asked, putting his arm around her.

"You reminded me of my sister, Faleene, but she made a very different choice..." her voice trailed off, clearly not planning to elaborate further, but she saw his look of curiosity. "I suppose I'll have to tell you about her now, won't I?"

"I'm interested, but you don't have to share anything you're not comfortable telling me," John replied.

Nyrelle leaned forward to give him a kiss, then spoke softly, "Alright, I'll tell you. Maybe it'll make you feel a bit better..." She went quiet for a moment to gather her thoughts. "I had four elder sisters and Faleene was the youngest until I came along. I'm sure she was overjoyed that her siblings had a new youngest sister to torment, but she never joined in their spiteful games, probably remembering what it was like to be on the receiving end. Faleene was ten years older than me, a free spirit and full of life. She loved to dance and taught me too... she was the only one in my family I didn't hate."

"But Faleene was also no longer my mother's youngest daughter and was expected to join the proper line of succession. I remember her coming to me in tears when I was about fifteen, telling me that Yunaliss, our mother, had told her to stop wasting time with dancing and to adopt a serious role in the Aeberos palace."

"She could have refused... Yes, there would have been arguments and threats, but she had three elder sisters, so there wasn't quite the same pressure. In the end, she did as Yunaliss asked and never danced again. It was like her spirit was broken after that and she became colder and harder, growing more distant with me over the years..."

"Maybe she resented you being the youngest sister," John suggested, as he stroked her arm. "Before you came along she could do as she liked, but afterwards, she had to conform..."

"Being youngest sister was no picnic, but you're probably right," she said, looking surprised. "Anyway, she got involved in House politics and was eventually murdered six years ago by a House Loraleth assassin, for some trivial slight by my mother. Faleene gave up her dream and it ruined her, eventually leading to her death."

John was about to speak, but Nyrelle shook her head, raising a slender blue hand so that she could finish.

"Running the family restaurant was your grandparents' dream, not yours. You can't blame yourself for wanting to follow your own path and it wasn't fair of them to put that burden of responsibility on you, not when you were so young." She gave him a sympathetic smile as she continued, "Life's too precious to waste it with regrets. Live for the future, don't dwell in the past."

Stopping to think about what she'd just told him, John could see the parallel Nyrelle had been making; if he'd given up his dreams, part of his spirit would have been broken too. Being forced to run the restaurant for the rest of his life would have felt like being trapped in a cage, sealed with unbreakable bars of responsibility and duty to his family.

"Thank you for telling me about Faleene... it helped," he said with a grateful smile. "You're not just exceptionally beautiful, you're wise too."

"I heard you like intelligent girls..." Nyrelle said with a wink as she rubbed her hand over her tummy. "You've fed me your cum a few times now, perhaps it was your doing?"

John looked at her in surprise, then realised she was only teasing him. "You were right before, about not wasting time with regrets. I'm sorry for the way that decision affected my relationship with my grandparents, but that wasn't the life I wanted."

She nodded, respect and admiration in her eyes. "You were always meant for far greater things, Baen'thelas. Besides, if you'd become a restaurateur, you would never have met me!"

"That would have been a tragedy," he agreed, sharing a grin with her.

Nyrelle sidled closer, a hungry gleam in her eyes. "Why don't you call Jade and have her suck out all this cum... She only needs to feed me a little bit to make me fertile for you doesn't she?"

"Yes, that's true, but don't you want the full load?" John asked, startled that she'd turn down the opportunity.

She looked torn with indecision for a moment, then shook her head. "I want to dance for you, but I can't do that with a big tummy." Her voice got husky as she added, "Dancing makes me really, really horny..."

*Jade?* John asked, letting the Nymph and his two Matriarchs back into his mind. *Do you feel like joining us for breakfast?*

The Nymph laughed and sounded delighted when he explained Nyrelle's plan. *I'd love to, Master! I'll bring you something nutritious to eat... I have a feeling you'll need the energy!*

***

"Permission to speak freely, Sir?" Captain Jack Fernandez asked through gritted teeth, his hands tightly clenching the armrests of his Ready Room chair to control his anger.

Commodore Campbell's holographic image nodded and he let out a weary sigh. "Go ahead, speak your mind..."

"This is crazy!" Jack blurted out. "We can't just pull back from the border! I've spoken to the captains already stationed here; I know how active the Kirrix have been for the last few weeks!"

"I don't like it any more than you do, Jack," Campbell said, brushing his hand through his grey-flecked hair, a pained expression on his face. "I've no idea what High Command is playing at, but our orders are explicit: All Terran Federation forces are to regroup and return to the Core Worlds with utmost urgency. There's no ambiguity or room for interpretation here. The fleet will be departing within the hour."

"But we'll be abandoning millions of people... leaving them completely unprotected!" Jack protested. "This isn't right!"

"Orders are orders," Campbell replied, giving him a helpless shrug. "Get the Damocles ready, Captain, we'll be leaving at eleven hundred hours."

Jack slumped in his chair. "Yes, Sir."

"Oh, and these orders are top-secret, Captain Fernandez. Strictly need-to-know for key personnel only," Campbell warned him. "That is all."

The Commodore closed the comm channel, leaving Jack staring at the winged-sword icon of the Terran Federation. Normally he felt a surge of pride when he saw that emblem, but he didn't feel very proud of it today...

Leaning forward he tapped his console and said curtly, "Lieutenant Commander Fernandez, to my Ready Room."

Mateo responded immediately. "On my way, Captain!"

Rising from his chair, Jack turned to look at the fleet of Terran Federation ships gathered in the Omicron Ceti system. The blood-red sun cast a ghastly crimson pall over the hulls of the assembled vessels and he watched as the warships began to gather into formation. The light was quite prophetic; they'd all have the blood of innocents on their hands if they abandoned these border worlds to the Kirrix.

A polite cough drew his attention away from the window. "You wanted to see me, Dad?" Mateo asked, looking at him with concern. "You zoned out for a few minutes there, just staring at the fleet... Are you alright?"

For the first time in his life, Jack felt like he couldn't meet his son's curious gaze. "Set course for Alpha Centauri, Mateo. We'll be departing with the fleet in a few minutes..."

Mateo stared at him in shock. "But we only arrived yesterday! It took us two weeks to get all the way to the Outer Rim and now we're heading right back?! That's ridiculous!"

"High Command's recalling the entire battle group to the Core Worlds," Jack explained quietly.

His son shook his head in bewilderment, then a smile spread across his face. "Well, I'm just glad it's not me paying the fuel bills! I'll move the Damocles into position with the rest of the fleet." He turned to leave, then paused, a frown on his face. "Don't get me wrong, it'll be great to go back to the Core Worlds and see Mom again, but why aren't we being transferred to the relief fleet? As administrative cock-ups go, this has got to be the worst yet!"

Jack slowly shook his head. "There is no relief fleet..."

Mateo froze, his eyes widening. "You can't be serious!"

"I wish I was joking, son," Jack said, suddenly feeling his age.

Mateo stared at him in horror. "But the Kirrix... and the border worlds!"

Jack grimaced and nodded. "I tried to persuade Commodore Campbell to delay, but the orders came directly from High Command. We've been ordered to return to Alpha Centauri immediately; we have to obey them, Mateo."

His son was about to protest again, but Mateo saw the haunted look in his father's eyes. "Orders received and understood, Captain," he said softly, then turned and walked away, exiting the Ready Room and leaving his father alone with his thoughts.

Jack let out a heavy sigh. He'd seen his son's appalled expression before he left and knew exactly how Mateo felt. What made it worse was seeing that sudden look of disillusionment in one so young, as Mateo's faith in the Terran Federation was profoundly shaken. Jack walked back to his desk and slumped in the chair, his dejected gaze drifting over to the holo-pictures of his family.

He stared at the one of Calara, taken the day she'd been awarded the Stellar Cluster, a radiant smile lighting up her beautiful face. Jack had thought his heart would burst with pride that day at the ceremony, never loving his daughter more than that moment, when she was honoured with saving Terra in front of billions of Federation citizens. He couldn't help thinking of the way she'd looked at him afterwards. Even after all her miraculous achievements, she was still looking for her Daddy's approval, her eyes full of love, respect, and admiration for him.

"I'm so sorry, Callie," Jack murmured, a thick lump in his throat.

He couldn't help feeling that he'd let her down...

***

Sergeant Dave Gibbons knocked on the office door, his eyes drifting to the embossed "Commander Wessex" nameplate. He'd spotted the attractive leader of the battalion's Armoured Infantry Companies numerous times around the base since he'd arrived at Sentinel Fortress, but this was only the second time she'd requested his presence at her office.

To his surprise, it wasn't the Commander's adjutant that answered his knock, but Wessex herself. She opened the door and strode past him, carrying her dress-jacket over her forearm. "This way Sergeant," she called over her shoulder.

Gibbons turned and walked briskly to catch up with the brunette, unable to resist darting a glance at the way her trousers hugged her shapely behind. He'd made some surreptitious enquiries with his men and discovered that one of his corporals had done a brief stint in administration. The man revealed that Commander Madison Wessex was actually only twenty-nine, which led Gibbons to the conclusion that she must pull her dark-brown hair back into a tight bun to make herself look older and more authoritative.

He fell into step beside her and offered her a quick salute. "You asked to see me, Ma'am?"

She returned the salute and turned, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, a hint of a smile on her face. "I asked Clint to keep me informed of your progress. I can see why the Lion gave you that commendation, David, your performance here has been outstanding."

He was taken aback, but tried to not to look too startled. He had been enjoying the power armour training with Staff Sergeant Brannigan, but like the time when he'd literally brought the roof down on the training range, his successes were down to a series of very lucky breaks rather than due to any particular skill. He wisely kept his mouth shut and nodded to her in gratitude.

Wessex placed her hand on a DNA reader set into the wall and the reinforced door beside it slid open with a quiet hiss. She strode into the secure elevator and Dave followed her inside, wondering where it led to.

Seeing the curiosity on his face, she hit the button for the basement level and said, "We're heading to the armoury under the Command Building. Only members of Sentinel Alpha have access to this facility; it's where we keep the top-of-the-line equipment for the very best of the best."

The elevator chimed and the door opened, revealing a security checkpoint in the form of a reinforced pillbox beyond. The guards saluted Wessex sharply, the sturdy inner-doors opening a moment later. Following his Commander's example, Dave headed into the room beyond, his eyes widening when he saw the impressive array of guns and armour stored in this bunker.

A technician in a green jumpsuit glanced up from his workbench then walked over to join them, adjusting his thick glasses as he ogled the Commander's pert bust. Dave winced, expecting her to give him a stern reprimand for his behaviour, but Wessex did nothing of the kind.

"Any news on the heatsinks, Crosby?" she asked hopefully, her tone filled with respect.

"Just installed them today, Madison," he replied, jerking a thumb at the suit of black power armour that stood centre-stage in the bunker.

Her face lit up in delight and she strode over to the suit of Sentinel armour, running her hands over the Gatling Laser held in its grip. "What are the specs like? As good as you predicted?"

"Even better!" the technician replied, sounding thrilled. "We're seeing a fifty-percent increase in cooling efficiency! But that's not all..."

She turned around and looked at him sharply. "No... you didn't..."

Crosby grinned at her and patted the back of the power suit. "Pulled a few strings with a guy I know at Energetica-Corp. It arrived this morning and I just finished installing it... Ashanath Power Core, with ten times the power rating!"

"Holy shit..." Commander Wessex gasped, staring at the Sentinel armour with wide eyes. "You're a genius!"

"You bet your sweet ass, baby!" Crosby crowed, giving her a broad smile.

Gibbons listened to their interaction in amazement, astounded that a lowly technician would dare to speak to the Commander in such a way.

Wessex caught his look of open-mouthed astonishment, and turned to put a friendly arm around the technician's shoulder. "Crosby, would you give me and Sergeant Gibbons a few minutes please. I need to discuss something important with him."

"Sure, I'll go grab a coffee," the technician replied with a shrug, sneaking another peek at her cleavage.

She waited until he'd left the armoury before turning back to Gibbons with a raised eyebrow. "You're wondering why I let him behave like a lecherous creep? Why I don't have him reprimanded for inappropriate conduct?"

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, Ma'am."

Wessex glanced at the newly upgraded power armour. "Because he's very well connected with lots of geeky friends. That means he can circumvent the glacial procurement policies and pretty much get me whatever new tech I want, the instant it's out of R&D." She smiled at him in satisfaction, then continued, "One thing you'll come to learn about me, David, is that I want the very best; in weapons, armour, personnel... everything..."

He spotted a hungry gleam in her eyes as her voice faded away and couldn't help wondering what else she was referring to.

Wessex shook it off a moment later and pointed to a suit of Sentinel armour in the corner of the bunker. "Get suited up, Sergeant..." Not waiting for a reply, she stood on the platform behind the jet-black Sentinel armour and slid into the open back of the hulking suit.

Dave jogged over to the armour she had pointed at and climbed up the steps onto the short platform behind the suit. Grasping hold of the rail, he swung himself into the Sentinel armour, sliding into the snug embrace of its padded interior. He hit the button to power up the machine and the hatch behind him closed then sealed. The internal HUD came to life, casting a pale blue light over his face, and Dave glanced at the weapon loadout as it displayed the number of rounds in his autocannon.

Commander Wessex was already striding ahead onto a platform edged in striped chevrons and she turned and beckoned him to join her. There was a brief crackle of interference as she synced up their comm systems and her pretty face appeared as a holographic image in the display.

"That's right, updated HUDs in these suits," she said, with a grin. "Nothing but the best..."

He nodded back at her, then carefully manoeuvred onto the platform beside her armoured body, steadying himself as it began to rise. It was a quick journey up to ground level and Wessex wasted no time in marching off the loading ramp at the back of the Command Building. Dave followed her out into the bright morning sunshine, only to be cast in shadow a few seconds later.

A heavy transport flew overhead, retro-thrusters firing as it made its final approach towards the dozens of landing pads in the assembly area of the base. Such a sight was hardly uncommon, with new recruits and personnel arriving at reasonably frequent intervals during the day. When he glanced up to watch the ship land, he was startled to see multiple mech-support carriers hovering over the base, the massive war-machines clearly visible in the open hangars.

"Is there a problem, Sergeant?" Wessex asked him, raising an eyebrow.

Dave shook his head, realising that he'd stopped to gawk at the enormous spacecraft. "No, Ma'am, just surprised to see so many ships."

"The rest of the Sentinel Battalion has been recalled, there must be some kind of big operation being planned," she replied, joining him in glancing skyward. Wessex turned and clapped him on his armoured shoulder with a metallic clang. "Time's a wasting... I want to get your assessment done before lunch."

"My assessment, Commander?" Dave asked her in surprise. "What am I being assessed for?"

"A place in Sentinel Alpha, in my own personal squad," she replied with a broad smile. "Keep up with me on the training course and you're in!"

***

John took a firm grasp of Nyrelle's white hair, tugging her head back and making her cry out as he lunged forward, fully impaling himself inside her. He snaked a hand under her toned belly and found her clit, then started rubbing in time with his pounding thrusts. She screamed as she came, her thighs trembling as he pounded her at a frenzied pace, her firm blue asscheeks slapping against his groin every time he bottomed out in her womb.

He'd originally intended to be gentle and loving with each of the Young Matriarchs when he impregnated them, savouring the intimacy as they conceived their first child together. However, after a morning spent in bed with the smouldering blue-eyed beauty currently climaxing on his cock, he'd learned that Nyrelle didn't do lovemaking. Nyrelle did wild uninhibited sex. She needed to be taken firmly in hand, then fucked... and fucked hard.

That's not to say that she wasn't loving, far from it in fact. As they'd revelled in the afterglow of each fiercely passionate coupling, she'd been tender and caring, enjoying gentle kisses with him just as much as any of the girls. But each time he'd recovered and was ready to go again, it was like a switch flipped inside her and Nyrelle turned into a primal force of nature in the bedroom.

Pulling her back to his chest, he put his lips to her pointed ear. "Ready for a baby in your belly, sexy girl?"

She swivelled her head to one side, staring at him with wild eyes as she hissed, "Do it! Breed me like I'm your bitch!"

John pushed her forward and she slid off his length, sprawling on the bed with a startled shriek. He grabbed her legs and pulled her back to him, watching as Nyrelle glared at him over one shoulder, the horny Maliri furious to be parted from his cock. Repositioning his hands on her wonderfully firm asscheeks, he spread them apart to admire the view. Her dark blue anus looked ever-so-inviting and he knew she'd be incredibly tight back there. Nyrelle's eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her head when she realised what he was staring at so lustily and she flushed a dark indigo.